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THE 





OTHER POEMS. 



BY OURRIE GREGG. 



"AVilli sonorous iiotps 
Of overy toiip, iiiixpcl in confusion swert. 
All cliantcd in the fullnr^s of delight, 
The forest rings. ** (', WILCOX. 



HOLLISTON, MASS. 

DAA'ID HEARD, JR., PRINTER. 
18 50. 



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• i^B 



THE 



SPIRIT DIRGE, 



AND 



OTIIEE POEMS. 



•i* 



BY CURRIE GREGG. 



" With sonorous notes 
Of every tone, mixed in confusion sweet, 
All chanted in the fullness of delight, 
The forest rings. " C. Wilcox. 



OPV 



HOLLISTON, MASS: 
DAVID HEARD, JR., PRINTER. 
P'' 18 50. 






TAELE OF CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

The Spirit Dirge, ... - 3 

God Omnipresent, ........... 5 

To The Wind, 6 

The Old Mansion House, 7 

The Wreckers, 7 

An Autumn Day, 8 

Speak Kindly, ........... 8 

The Sailor To His Son 9 

The Zephyr And The Rose, 9 

Morning, , 10 

Cities Of The East 10 

The Strife Of Life, 10 

Pilgrims Of Art, H 

Indian Summer, H 

To Alice, .12 

Autumn, .,........•• 12 

The Snow, 12 

The Past, 13 

The Lovers 13 

A Descriptive Picture, 13 

Questions And Answers, 14 

Dawn, 1* 

The Sabbath Bell, . ' 14 

April, 14 

Time Is Like A River, 15 

May, 15 

Corneilia, • 15 



THE SPIRIT DIRGE,* 



As the sands of life were shifting, 
And the clouds of fate went drifting 

O'er the scene of my despair ; 
As I lay in fever tossing, 
Seem'd it that my soul was crossing, — 

Crossing to a land more fair. 

On, and on ! I flew rejoicing — 

On ! — I scarcely paused for choicing, — 

Up the shining fields I sped ! 
Many a radiant flower upspringing 
'Neath my footsteps, shone, — but singing, 

On — forever on — I fled ! 



Countless stars around me gleaming 
Burst, and far beneath, in seeming 

Like the earth, a system roU'd ; 
Sun and moon around it circled, 
Till its surface grew impurjiled ; 

Then in distance flashed like gold. 

Dim, and dimmer grew its outlines. 
Dimmer ! — till it shone like sea-mines 

Underneath the yUgean sea ; 
Dimmer ! — as I floated o'er all — 
Dimmer I — till it shone like coral 

Underneath the surging sea. 

Then it vanished. Hours longer 
Seem'd my flight ; but I grew stronger 

Every step my soul advanced. 
Stars burst on me and retreated ; 
Stars advanced ; — my soul seem'd sheeted 

'Gainst each burning ray that glanced. 

Far beneath, around, above me. 

Systems flashed — they could not move me 

From the shining path I trod ; 
Stars fell back in broken phalanx. 
Reeling down toward the stray ranks. 

That did brighten the far sward. 

All in vain ! Xo sight could move me, 
Though unnumbered worlds above me, 

Burst each moment on mj^ sight; — 
Higher, higher ! I proceeded ; 
Swifter, swifter ! each receded, 

Till I scarcely marked their flight. 



Swifter I — till they seem'd united ; 
Swifter ! — till the heavens were lighted, 

And my pathway shone like flame ; 
Swifter ! — till each orb that wended 
Singly on, rushed down, and blended 

Into one broad track of flame. 

Suddenly the heavens were darken' d. 
And ceil'd up with gloom. — I harken'd ! 

Not a moving sound was heard ! 
But beneath me, far and faintly. 
Shone the last star of the saintly 

Troops that round my pathway stirr'd. 

Paused I then, and pondered sadly ; 
Paused; — "was this the sunless valley 

Of the shadow ?" my soul said. 
Long I listened ; — to my query 
Came no answer ; but more dreary 

Grew the pathway overhead. 

Dreary ! — though an inward feeling. 
Based on high resolve, kept stealing 

From the soul its brief unrest : 
Dreary, — yet no gloom could pain it. 
Neither could the darkness chain it ; — 

Nothing could its flight arrest. 

All at once in hues resplendent. 
Hose a cloud ; it hung impendent 

O'er the gloomy vale beneath ; — 
"Is this heaven r" I cried, transported, 
" Is it:" — but the vision floated. 

And passed over in a breath. 



* Any one at all familiar ivitli tlic pcicticnl ■writings of tlie late Kilpar A. Toe, will iinmodiatcly rccoBiiizc our drift 
in the suhioined poem. 



All again was hushed and quiet — 
Hush'd, — as it had been God's fiat, 

Fixed long ere the birth of Time, 
That eternal gloom should cover 
The dark valley, souls pass over 

In their skyward Might sublime. 

On, and upward, and far reaching. 

In its strength, the gloom went stretching, 

With the shadow, hand in hand ; 
Stretching, — till a grey blue mingled 
With the darkness — faintly mingled — 

Far above the valley land. 

Gradually the gloom disparted. 
And strode slowly back. — Upstarted, 

In its stead, a deeper blue. 
There it lingered ; deep cerulean. 
Melting into rich vermilion, 

Flashed an ever-varying hue. 

Saw I then a vast pavilion, 

Which, compared to earth, a million 

Orbs as large, or larger, even, 
Could they, for a moment, mingle 
Into one, — to form a single 

Beautiful and breathing heaven, — 

They must have failed. To my vision, 
Brighter seem'd it than Elysian 

Out of richest fancy formed. 
ALL the gloomy vale was lighted, 
And my soul, so long benighted, 

Caught its influence and warmed. 

New created hopes, upspringing, 
Fired my soul, and upward winging, 

Upward, upward ! still I sped. 
Onward, heavenward ! never fearing, 
I advanced. Like thought careering, 

Up the gleaming waUs I fled ! 

Upward ! till those shiniiig portals, 
Which are closed to sinful mortals, 

Opened Avidely to my view ; 
Till from thence, and upward welling, 
Rose a dirge-like music, swelling, 

Such as only angels knew. 

And from far, my soul surprising, 
Like silver mist uprising, 

Rose a myriad shining souls ; 
And above them, leagues, in seeming, 
And in distance faintly gleaming, — 

Where, in gold and sapphire, rolls 

The cloud,— cliff, cragg and height uprose ; 
And far beneath them in repose, 

Slept the deep-sheltered vales. 
My spirit felt the change ! It breathed 
The gentle airs of heaven, and wreathed 

Its brow with the sweet-scented gales 

That closed around it. The soul's thirst 
Was quenched. The spirit, reimmerst 
lu immortality, arose, 



And with surrounding souls did mingle ! 
From remoter vales, a single, 

Beautiful, bright form arose ! 

Following him in swift succession, 
Came a long and bright procession, 

Beautiful of limb and strong ; 
And their radiant forms extended 
Leagues around. A throne descended 

From the glittering heights among. 

Forms more bright than ocean Peri, 
That, securely 'neath the sea lie. 

Bore it down the azure height ; 
Bore it down the shining pathway. 
To the proud grey cliffs, that still lay 

Weltering in the rosy light. 

And the bright procession, wheeling 
Heavenward, all their powers revealing, 

Quickly circled it around ; 
Circled round it, till my vision 
Saw no longer the Elysian 

That had passed without a sound. 

So, with many a pilgrim spirit, 
That in heaven those joys inherit 

Which are lost or won below, 
I uprose ; — on — on ! I started ; 
On ! The rosy depths disparted ; — 

On ! How sweet their garments flow ! 

Gazed I then on each procession 
That had passed, in quick succession, 

Through the portals of the sky ; 
Every form seemed more resplendent, 
As I gazed ; and more transcendent 

Grew the glittering pageantry. 

And the throne, each sense surprising. 
Like two pyramids arising, 

Seem'd of emerald wreathed in gold ; 
And above it, like the starlight, 
When she stoops above the far height. 

Every spirit flag unroU'd. 

And the angels sang in chorus 
'Till each strain that floated o'er us 

Seem'd a ripple of the sea ; 
'Till the soul, in rapture swelling. 
Every earthly sense dispelling, 

Stood in its own purity. 

Saw I then two forms reclining 
Gently on that throne, entwining. 

Each, an arm, the other round ; 
For, on earth, had they been plighted 
Heart and soul ; now reunited, 

Each their hopes in heaven had found. 

One a poet was, and gifted. 

While on earth. But darkly drifted 

O'er his head the storms of life ; 
And each burning word he uttered 
Seem'd a wounded form that fluttered 

From an inner world of strife. 



And the other Avas a maiden, — 
One of whom he sang ; — in Aidenn 

By " the angels named Lenore ;" 
And she lay \ipon his bosom, 
Like a rare, celestial blossom, . 

And she whispered — " Ever more !' 

And his harp — the angels hnng it 
Near him, all unstrung ; — he strung it, 
And swept back the silver}- serge ; 



And the maiden sweetly pondered 
On the joys of heaven, and wondered 
If on earth such joys emerge. 

Now the angels sing their praises, — 
And his lyre the poet raises. 

And repeats it o'er and o'er ; — 
" Here, within this glorious Aidenn, 
Do I clasp the peerless maiden 

^Vhom the angels named Lenore !' 



GOD OMNIPRESENT 



OR, THE SUBLIME EVIDEXCES Or DEITY, AS MANIFESTED IX THE IIIDDEX AXD VISIBLE OrEUATIOXS 

OF XATUllE. 



Thou Omnipresent, seK-existent source 
Of all that was, or is, or j'et to be, 
How can my soul, in purj^osc all unfledged. 
Presume to reach Thee ? — Thee ! the Omnipo- 
tent r — 

There 's not a form in the Avhole universe ! 
Xay, — not even the minutest particle 
Of animal life, but that doth look 
To Thee for being through its short-lived hour. 
Man cowers beneath Thine all-surveying eye. 
And trembling asks thy mighty hand to spare ; 
The ocean hails Thee with sublimest voice. 
And from the vasty dejjths of its great womb, 
Unfathomably illimitable. 
And never to be explored, (save by the 
Slimy ofFsiirings of its loins,) — it offers 
Up to Thee a mighty, du-gc-likc hymn, 
Strewed with continuous surges. From the earth, 
Millions of human tongues go up to Thee 
In praise. Man bows to Thee in penitence 
And prayer, and asks of Thine Omnipotence 
To save. Even as Thou art to the mind's 
Eye — incomprehensible — so art Thou 
To mc all-powerful — all-omnipotent ! 

How can I deem Thee otherwise ? — Thou ! 
The Eternal r AVc know, we see, we feel 
Thy greatness ; we think, and reason, too. 
And do exist, as evidences of Thee. 

And }-et Thou art a soua'ce of deep amaze ! — 

A being infinite and wonderful 

To scan ! — A mighty self-existent God ! — 

I strive to know Thee and to understand. 

I move, act, think and reason ; yet, to me, 

Thou art a wonderment — a mystery ! 

— Tlien what am I r — alas ! I know not — 

A mystery -v^ithin a mystery ! — 

How seek to fathom Ilim.who made me such r 

Who fashioned man to wonder at himself r 



God ! how shall I ever know thee r or, if not, 
How live to comprehend thy simplest works ? 
The world is full of Thee ! Air, earth and sea ; 
Even the distinct forms that people them, 
Being within being, filling their own 
Existence separately, subject alike 
To the same law of change, filled with the same 
Principles of life and action, feel Thee, 
And recognize Thee through all time and change. 

To Thee all things are eloquent of praise ! 
The veriest insect hath an audible voice. 
And the sere leaves, that Autumn strews along 
The forest aisles, are whispering of Thee. 
Rivers that move in stately grandeur on, 
Filling the cxhaustless reservoirs of earth 
"With a deep sense of renovated life, 
Greet Thee in mute reflections of Thyself. 

The vegetable world looks eloquently up, 
As if to ask Thine all-sustaining aid ; 
The wind-rocked and impenetrable woods 
Have found for Thee an ever- varying tongue ; 
The inaccessible mountain peaks, swayed 
By eternal winter, hj-mn Thee with praise ; 
And, with a deaf 'ning and perpetual roar. 
From his eternal source, Niagara speaks. 
Filling the arch'd heavens with his ascendins 

praise I 
Even the worsliijiers of sun and fire, 
Within those elements do recognize Thee. 
The " dark idolater" in his own heart doth feel 
Thy presence ; and from the inanim^ate 
"Wood and stone, shapes, with strong hands, 

from his weak 
Eye, and weaker sense of judgment. Thy 
liude counterpart. Even the Christian bows, 
And seeks to worship thee in costly temples 
Kcar'd by human hands ; unmindful that the 

unroof 'd 



Chapel aisles, which, nature formed, for aye 
existed ! — 
God ! as Thou art wise, so art Thou impar- 
tial ! 
Thou makcst fi-om the simplest particles 
Of separate and material being, xip. 
Each, in its tvirn, subservient to a one 
Great principle of life ! Hence there is no 
Distinction ; each, in its separate sphere. 
Returns to earth again, again to be 
Dissolved into a myriad forms of life, 
Each separate and distinct, and each, v.-ithin 
Itself, a world of light and life, subject. 
Alike, to the same varied round of change. 



Then what are we ? — we ? — Great God, what 

are we ? — 
And Thou r — from whence art Thou ! mightiest 

of all? 
I sec Thee ! feel Thee ! and yet know Thee not ! 
All nature — e'en to the remotest orbs 
That people space, and arc cognizant, are 
But a part of Thy illimitable self! 

I feel within Thine all-pervading midst 
An indescribable sense of passing 
Littleness, — of being weak and abject ; 
For, unto man. Thy long eternity 
Speaks but too eloquent of human dust- 



TO THE WIND. 



To TiiKE, Almighty Ruler ! unto Thee, 

Who art forever present, suffer me. 

In the still ra.om that opens to my view, — 

That opens to the eye, and to the sense 

Of myriad breathing life, — to bend the knee ; 

To bow within these venerable woods ; 

For Thou did'st rear them. To worship here, 

As few have worshiped. To look up 

To Thee, Almighty Father ! and exclaim, — 

"Thou art God !"^ 

But hither come the winds, sweet 
Winds ! dew-laden from the west. How full of 

v.'arm 
And passionate love they seem. Even 
Now, in their young strength, mark how they 

dally 
With the rose, lifting the delicate leaves 
That shield her bosom from the ravished gaze 
Of the enamored bee. And yet they are 
Unto the fevered brow, as cooling 
Waters are unto the parched earth. 

See now, 
A stronger current sweeps, and undermines 
The lca\-es of the gr-eat forest. Afar, and faint. 
It sounded first ; now more distinct and near. 
A river of sweet harmony, it seems, — 
From mingling sounds of harmony its source ; — 
And through the woven vistas of the wood,. 
Lifting the infant foliage from- the stalk, 
To the still air, the river of sweet sound 
Flows on ! 

Oh ! thou delirious tide ! 
So rife with song of bird and waterfall ; 
So filled with the melodious sighing of the stream 
And the sweet prattle of the innocent brook ; 
So pregnant with the balm of flowering shrubs 
And medicinal herbs ; — list thou to me ! 



Would'st thou cool the fevered brow— - 
Would'st thou raise the sufferer now ? 
Would'st give strength unto the weak. 
Him of pale and sunken check ? 
Would'st tliou drive the hectic flow 
From those cheeks that siiame the snow ? 
W^ould'st thou see them wandering througfe 
Thy still depths, as I now wander, 
Shaking the dissolving dew 
From the flowers expanding rxnder ? — 
If thou would'st, then come with me ; 
I will teach thee where they be. 

First, within the noisy street. 
Many a sad pale face you meet. 
Hurrying to their daily toil ; 
And that toil will scarcely give 
Each the means wherewith to live- 
Sad it seems, and yet 't is trrre. 
Though I breathe it but to you ! 

Would'st thou cheer that fair young girf. 
With face so pale, so very pale ; 
And lift once more the sunny ciu'l. 
As, in her childhood's happy vale. 
Ere yet her innocent soul had learn'd 
The secrets of a sinful world r 

See her ply her heavy task. 

Within yon chamber cold and dim ; 

She is too proud her food to ask, 

Save of the rich taskmaster ; him 

W^ho spares so grudgingly from out his store 

Of glittering ore ! 

The daylight never brealcs the gloom, 
AVithin her solitary room. 



Pity h.cr, ye purse-proud lew, 
Ye, who glitter o'er life's track ; 
And remember -what ye do, 
Throws a deep reliection back. 

There she sits from morn till night, 
Toiling for the right to live ; 
Toiling for the jialtry mite 
That ye would not feci to give ; 
Toiling by the smoky lamp. 
In her chamber, cold and damp. 

****** 
Ye who wear the 'broidcred robe 
In the glittering halls of mirth, 



Know ye that o'er half the globe, 

Half the invalids of earth 

Toil, that thou mayst shine more bright. 

Those rich habiliments within, — 

E'en as the glow-worm shines by night, 

Enamored of its covering ? 

But mark ! the playful winds do hoed me not. 
The sun so late upon the horizon's verge, 
Is still ascending ; so yonder purple cloud. 
That hovers o'er his path will pass away. 
But may the strain my heart so lately urged, 
So feebly uttered, live within thy soul ! 



THE OLD MANSION HOUSE. 



Grim'd and battered Avith grey moss, 
The Old Mansion House doth stand, 
Gazing along the misty strand, 
"WTience our pilgrim spirits cross. 
Where their bright pavilions cast 
Back the dull surges of the vpiceless past. 

Once upon thy sloping lawn. 
Beneath the branching elm's shade. 
Troops of frolicsome children played 
In the first smiles of the morn, 
And tlicir merry voices rang. 
Where now the oaks in fringed embroidery hang. 

But alas ! thy hopes have flown 
With those bright-eyed laughing troops ; 
No longer are heard their merry whoops 
Through the autumn woods at morn. 
I listen — but no floral hymn 
Goes up from their cloistered niches dim. 

Hem'd in closely by rude walls, 
Half shut out from careless eyes. 
Lies the garden. Cerulcous skies 
Mirror the spider's thin halLs, 
Where full many a trophied limb 
Doth hang along their woven galleries dim. 



On the stairs the old clock stands ; 
O'er its ancient face of time — • 
Guarding the relics of its prime — 
It doth press its silent hands ; 
Pointing to the far off strand. 
The viewless sea, and to the promised land. 

And the stairs are piled with dust 
From the broad-step to the floor. 
While half unhung, still swings the door. 
Oak panelled and hinged with rust ; 
And cobweb tenants of the hall, 
In woven festoons hang along the wall. 

All alone, and ■sATapt in gloom. 
Stands the Mansion House of yore, 
Sad memorial — evermore 
Silent, voiceless as the tomb ; 
And no living sound is heard. 
Save the wild scream of the night-startled bird. 

But two centuries have flung 
Their mute shadows over all ; — 
Over the dark worm-eaten wall, 
Not a thread hath memory hung ; 
And I idly stand and gaze 
Into that past that never man obeys. 



THE AVRECKERS. 



The sky is overcast — 
Darkness and gloom are gathering silently ; 
Swift overhead the winds come rushing past. 

And a storm is on the sea ! 
Kindle the watch fires high, thou fiends of hell. 
Darkness shall not prevail against thee ! All is 
well ! 



Thy souls gloat o'er yon speck. 
Half hid in darkness — 'Tis a hellish plan ! 
The object nears — 'Tis the dismantled wreck 

Of a proud Indiaman I 
Thy plans are laid, and o'er the surging waves, 
he beacon-lights of death, pilot them to their 
graves. 



8 



Tliere 's many a straining eye 
Bent on the breakers — Madness doth them 

fill! 
One deafening crash — one startling shriek of 
agony 
Is heard, and all is still ! 
The deed is now accomplished, Fiends of hell ! 
Darkness did not prevail against thee ! All is 
well ! 

The clouds outride the moon ! 
The storm and darkness will not fail thee now. 
Strike — 'tis a prize ! Thoir canst not strike 
too soon ! 

All hands are mute below ! 
Xot one survives the horrid tale to tell ; 



The morning slowly dawns ! 
The drifting clouds have changed their leaden 

hue. 
The rocks and streams, and the wide spreading 
lawns 
Are muffled in light blue ! 
A thousand gems are flashing in the sand. — 
Last night there was a wreck ! None ever 
reached the land ! 

The day drags heavily ! 
Over the rocks, the tide comes roaring in : 
Idly they stand and gaze into the sea, 

Those resolute men of sin ! 
They have no fear ! What care they for their 
doom ? — 



So thou canst strike, nor fear ; — much gold will j Their hour has come at last ? No conscience 
pay thee well ! i stirs its gloom ! 



AN AUTUMN DAY. 



I FEEL iipon my brow 
The soft south wind that overflows the sky ; 
Invisible fingers lift the loaded bough. 

That shadows where I lie. 

The sober Autumn, 'neath 
The hedge-row sits, through the long sunny day, 
Numbering the creakmg wains that pass the 
heath. 

Loaded with fragrant hay. 

The rosy children come, 
Frolicing along the way, a noisy troop. 
Some playing at hide-and-seek, and yonder some 

Are trundling the swift hoop. 

Some loiter on their way ; 
And when their school-fellows are out of sight, 
With rapid, noiseless steps they glide away, 

Forgetful of the right. 



All sounds are blended now 
Into one full harmonious voice of praise ; 
Even the oriole, upon the maple bough. 

Its modest note essays. 

The squirrel leaps along 
The cloven and mossy wall, and Avith a cry. 
And a shrill, startling chirp, which is his song. 

Pauses to catch your eye. 

The traveller bee moves past. 
Mournful and sad — denied his usual store — 
For the wild rose and clover bloom, at last 

Have ceased to tempt him more. 

Oh ! glorious Autumn ! 
With thy ripened store of many voiced de- 
lights ! 
How can I soon forget thee — Thee and the sum 

Of all thy pleasant sights ! 



SPEAK KINDLY. 



Judge not harshly of thy brother. 

Lest unknowing thou misjudge ; 
Name his lofty virtues, rather, — 

Kindness is not all a fudge ! 
He who breathes an evil sentence. 

May in future half repent ; 
But remember such repentance 

Goes to prove a life misspent. 



Man may live in seeming virtue 

Outwardly, corrupt within ; 
While some thoughtless, careless creature 

May be more exempt from sin. 
Crush not then thy fellow seamen, 

Though thy voyage should prove less fair ; 
Envy is a living demon ; — 

Thou should'st never quite despair ! 



Never pain thy pilgrim brother, 

But give aid, and strength, and light : 
Hearts that live and love each other, 

Scorn less earthly in their might. 
Keats, the beautiful and gifted. 

Once lay "crushed in mind and heart ; " 
But the angels came and lifted 

His pure soul from Envy's dart. 



Then remember and speak kindly — 

All the common lot must bear : 
Go not to destruction blindly ; 

Sink not down in thy despair. 
But look upward with the cheerful ; 

Crush thy inner walls of sin : 
Soon will come a summons fearful ; 

Bear these solemn truths within. 



THE SAILOR TO HIS SON. 



Oh ! thou bright voyager to the unknown land ! 

That sail'st along the unruffled waves of Time, 
How oft ill mine I clasp thy tiny hand, 

And pray that thine may prove a voyage 
sublime. 

That naught like clouds may come athwart thy 
sky, 
To stir that calm serenity of soul 
Which points us upward, as wo onward fly, 
To those bright realms where saintly Paeans 
roU! 

That thine may prove a prize -vvith wisdom 
fraught ; 

That truth be firmly seated at the helm ; 
That naught of passion or of evil thought, 

Be suffered thy spiritual bark to whelm. 



That all thy acts may prove as beacon-lights 
To those benighted on the world's highway. 

Till Hope and Faith, in firmest bonds, unites 
Thee, and thy fellow trav'lers on their way. 

Thus may thy voyage be one continuous calm 
Of lofty triumphs o'er the ills of earth, 

Till Death to thee extends a healing balm 
For all thou' St suffered ; — an immortal birth I 

Such is my prayer ; and may a hope be thine, 
Thi-ough Faith's strong power, sublim'd in her 
liigh art. 
That naught may dim those beacon-lights that 
shine 
Around the gifted and the pure in heart 



THE ZEPHYR AND THE ROSE, 



" From my castle, in the mountain, 
I have wandered to thj- bower ; 

And I pause within the moonlight — 
Wilt thou let me in, sweet flower :" 

Thus the zephyr came a wooing 

To the lattice of the rose ; 
And so mournfully a wooing. 

That she could not him refuse. 

" — Nay !" she said, " thou winged deceiver, 
Wherefore dost thou wound me so ? — 

Shouldst thou with me find favor, 
It might prove my overthrow." 

" Nay not so," the zephyr answered ; 

And he gently kissed the rose ; 
" — I am no cold deceiver. 

Like the truant wind that blows." 



So the rose and zephyr tasted 

The first joj's of mutual love ; 
But how long the moments lasted, 

Ask the fickle winds above. 

Soon, the rose, so kind and loving, 
By her heartless lord deceived. 

Sighed and wept, from night till morning, 
And from morn till night she grieved. 

And she grew more pale and shrunken, 
'Till her eyelids closed in grief; 

And her cheeks, tho' flushed, grew sunken. 
And the rose fell with the leaf. 

Now the gentle winds go sighing, 

With an ever mournful tone ; 
For they shrived the wild rose, dying, 

On her bed of thorns alone. 



10 



MORNING. 



Befoke me, now, the morning opens ■wide 
Her rosy volume. Not a leaf is stirr'd ! 
The slender twig points upward, all unswayed 
By the light breeze. Within the stream, the 

tall 
Oaks cast their perpendicular shadows. 

Over the East, a purple cloud, cross-streaked 
"With gold, hangs hovering. The golden lines, 
That herald the approach of the big sun, 
Are shooting upward. Far along the verge 
Of the horizon, — that last night shone grey 
And cheerless, — lingers, and rolls a strong flood 
Of molten light. Above it, a long rift 
Of vapor, piled, cloud above cloud, stretches 
In layers, which, in their different aspects, 
Do resemble the material world ; 
While farther up, the blue outstretching wide — 
A liquid mass — and far upreaching, seems 
Like the unruffled surface of a lake, 
When, to their mountainous caves, the strug- 
gling winds 
Have all been gathered by Hippotades. 



Along the south, skirting the dark grey ridge 

Of hills, that jut into the blue, stands the dark 
Forest ; Avhile betwixt, fringing the blue lake, 
Rise the tall poplax's. All around is still, 
Save that at intervals, goading the mute air, 
Comes the faint sounds of distant waterfall. 
The birds are mute that but an hour ago, 
In the first grey of dawn, caroU'd so sweetly ; 
And the slight grasshopper, that in the sun 
Chirps freely, leaps silently on, amid 
The springing clover, unmindful of man's 
Approach. Those untiring minstrels, the bees, 
That buzz all day for joy, are not abroad. 

But look ! the sim has now arisen ! The 
heavens 
As suddenly have blushed a deep crimson ! 
And lo ! all things at once have wakened into life. 
The birds have found a tongue ; the grasshopper 
Chirps freely from his watchtower in the clover — 
The tall grass ! The bees are now abroad, and 
All things wear a new and shining aspect. 



CITIES OF THE EAST. 



" Time sadly overcometh all things." 

He doth sit dominant upon a sphinx. 

And looketh into Memphis and old Thebes ; 

While the dumb genius, his oblivious sire, 

Keclincth on a pyramid grown grey 

With moss, weaving old glories into dreams. 

He doth frame, out of Titanic ruins. 

Puzzles unanswerable, and wonders vague ; 

Quaint dreams, and speculations, and the like. * 

All earthly things are perishable, else 

Empires had not fallen, nor man decayed ; 

Cities had not declined, nor solitudes 

Grown inharmonious with human strife ; 

Neither had the venerable forests 

Been transformed into gigantic cities 

To become, in turn, stupendous ruins. 

Domes, monuments, cities, empires, and the 



Human race, had all existed still. 

But they have fallen ! The incessant march 

Of the Invisibly sublime, doth bring 

Changes innumerable. The mute stars, 

(AVhich have been mute forever, and will be,) 

Sola watchers of his course, alone srvive 

To mark the errand of his destiny 

On earth, and note the progress of the task 

To its fulfilling. Yes, they have fallen ; 

Thebes, Memphis, Tyre, Babylon !— 

Yea ! hoary and stupendous Babylon I 

The vast, the mighty, the unconquerable,— 

The forever present 'to the mind's eye,— 

Now venerable — once glorious — what are they ? 

What they were, even their ruins are made 

Eloquent to utter ; what they are, 

The weary pilgrim shudders to repeat. 



THE STRIFE OF LIFE. 



Side by side, in the waste desert, 
Of the moving sands of life, 

"Vice and falsehood, linked together. 
Wield dark weapons in the strife. 



And the flowers that bloom around them, 
Once infected by their breath. 

Seek to mingle in with virtue, 
The foul seeds of moral death. 



* Slightly altered from Sir Thomas Browne. 



11 



Thus we oft behold a desert, 

Where a paradise should be; 
^^^lere, for lack of moral culture, 

All is dark deformity. 
But the truth, full oft unnoticed, 

With a keen and searching eye, 
Guards the right ; and oft, in peril, 

Bids his sister, virtue, fly ! 

O, could truth, -within each bosom. 
Strike one soul convincing blow, 

How many flowering virtues 
Would the golden I'utm-e know. 



Earth I that is so full of sorrow, 
Though of every virtue rife. 

Then wo\ild bless the glorious onset 
Of the moral "strife of life !" — 

Then let every soul be valiant. 

And their strongest weapons draw ; 
Let the proud, the honored, gifted. 

Come to swell the ranks of war. 
Let them don their brightest armor ; 

Let true virtue know its worth ; 
Let them win the soul's high guerdon. 

And a paradise on earth. 



PILGRIMS OF ART. 



When stern Oppression drove 
The Pilgrim Fathers from their native land, 

They like our fathers strove, 
Strove for their worshiped shrines, but not 

command ; 
Braving a thousand dangers which assailed, 
With indomitable courage, — they prevailed. 

Stern ocean rose and fell ! 
For days, and weeks, and months, the swell 
Of angry billows, lashed the adventurous bark ; 
Waking in each heroic soul 
A sense of littleness, which stole 
From pride its onlj^ spark. 
They saw in the deep blue o'erhead, 
The viewless fields where angels tread. 
And, through the breathing depths above, — 

beyond 
All space, — the God of light and love, enthroned 
They saw, and worshiped. 



They were a godly race, 
Lofty of purpose ; and from such have sprung 

Names that still hold a place 
In Fame's broad niche, lauded by every tongue. 
Such glorious names as Trumbull, West and 

Stuart, 
And the immortal AUston, masters of the art. 

Are not of the ideal ! — 
No ! — they live and will be real 
While yet on earth a vestige of their works 

remain. 
Renewed by every touch of time 
Their feeblest efforts grown sublime, 

They live, nor liv'd in vain. 
And from examples, such shall spring, 
Names glorious as the ones I sing ; 
And from the past the limner's soul shall glean 
New inspiration from the life-like scene 

Of Old Time offering. 



INDIAN SUMMER. 



Yes, they have come — those sweet autumnal 
hours, 
Bearing in their embrace earth's richest smiles. 
Of all the bright and many tinted flowers 
That, through the innocent months of spring, 
beguiles 
The sunny hours, — alas ! not one remains ; 
Not even a leaf in all thy wide domains ! 

And yet, for thee, pale death assumes a smile, 
And wears an air of innocent beauty still ; 

The cheerless woods grow cheerful, for awhile, 
Within thy presence ; and the wooded hill. 

Bathed in the golden sunlight, and the vale 

Deep sheltered, arc refreshed by the sweet gale. 

But thy bright hours are like the transient flush 

That plays around the features of decay ; 
Leaving a smile of beauty, and a blush 



Of seeming health within th' unbreathing clay. 
Long may'st thou linger, sweet autumnal time. 
Nor leave too soon our changing northern clime. 

But hark ! — the forest now, so lately stript 
By the chill, ruthless winds, hears in the leaves 

Low mournful rustling, by the hoar frost nipt, 
The sound of moving insects ; — and it grieves. 

Alas ! thou stately forest — thou didst wear 

A rich embroidery once ; — now thou 'rt stript 
and bare. 

And this is then thy boa.st — pale autumn — this ! 

Thy hands destroy ; but, in return, a few 
Bright sunny moments give, such as we miss 

When summer's reign is o'er; when the 
slight dew 
By the chill frost usurped, no longer shines 
Along the garden walls, and trellised vines. 



TO ALICE. 



"When the autumn pines are sighing 
And the withered leaves are still ; 
When the sunset flush is lying 
On the cloud encircled hill; 
Then I 'm thinking, always thinking, 
Thinking till the stars are blinking 
From their high aerial "VA'ay, 
Thinking that the world is drinking 
From the poet's rills alway. 

Then from out the silent chambcrs^ 

Of the soul, in long array, 

Come the forms of thoughts long hidden 

From the blessed light of day : 

And I bless them, and I dress them 



In wild numbers, and address theiri 
To the hearts that feel alway, — 
Thinking that the world may guess them J 
Cfuess the meaning they convey. 

Thus I sit, and thi5S I ponder. 

Till my spirit inly grieves, — 

Ponder till the starry midnight 

Leaves her footprints on the leaves ; 

Ponder till the restless midnight 

Sees the gi'ey dawn's glimmering light, — • 

Ponder till the weary vision 

From the far famed fields El^'sian 

Sinks, exhausted with its flight. 



AUTUMN. 



0, with what glory comes and goes the year. — Longfellow. 



The seasons boast a glory all their own ! 
Stern Winter ! — yes — the winter hath its joys ! 
The merry Clu'istmas tale, the pointed jest, 
The chat, a fire- side, and the noisy game. 
Are all his own. The Spring, too, hath its sweets. 
And, with a thoughtless hand, scatters abroad 
His feast of roses. The world is full of hope, 
And joy, and brightness ; for the spring is mild ! 
And Summer ; yes, bright Summer hath its joys ; 

Deep, glad'ning heartfelt joys. 

Then, Autumn ! whence art thou ? and 
where thy charms ? — 
Keveal thyself, that I may chant thy praise. 
Unveil thyself a moment, that my thoughts 
May sketch thy vivid outlines to the life. 



And thou art with us now — pale Autumn l 

Thou? 
Methinks I heard thee say so ; — and the woods 
That once were vocal with the song of birds. 
And bright wing'd insects, whose monotonous 

notes 
So ravished every ear ; — the vales outstretching 

far. 
Disrobed of all their summer draper}'. 
And gone, the sylvan pomp of their cool groves ; 
The quiet, plaintive note of the brown thrush 
Within the hedge-row, that, in Summer, sang 
So sweetly ; — each — all — proclaim thy presence I 
Alas ! they know thee well ! There's not a thing 
That wears the form of life, bv\t knows thee also. 



THE SNOW. 



How lightly falls the snovi 

On the ground. 
None will venture out I troAV 
While the storm is thickening so 

All around. 

How silently it falls 

From on high ! 
See, it gathers round the walls 
Like an insect when it crawls 

'Neath your eye. 

Now a multitude of flakes. 

Sinking, shrouds 
The rivulets and lakes. 



That a lighter habit takes 
From the clouds. 

And the woods and fields around,^ 

And the town. 
Are so silently profound 
That it hath an audible sound, 

Coming down. 

'Tis not like summer rain. 

Soft and cool ; 
Though it overflows the plain. 
And refills the stream again. 

And the j^ooL 



13 



THE PAST. 



Oh thou oblivious past ! had I the power 
One moment to unlock thy ponderous gates 
And bar them back, how gladly would I seek 
To pass within thy portals — to explore ; 
And to disclose thy dark robed ministers, 
"Which, through the innumerable ages 
That have gone before, have stood like cowTd 

monks 
Upon thy hidden tombs, securing wealth 
And homage from the slow yielding present. 

Oft have I gazed into thy mighty womb 
And marked, as now, thy unrelenting waves. 
Even while I speak, thy sullen ■\^'aters meet, 
And swallow up the moments as they pass. 



Thy surges have no sound ; thy waves beat up 
And coil around me without a murmur, — 
Pause but the fraction of a moment, then 
Move slowly back, bearing in their embrace 
The sad remains of human pomp and pride. 
They leave no records save the written scroll 
That swells the history of nations ! We 
I-ive but in the eternal present — all ! 
The wealth of worlds, one moment could not 

purchase. 
Nor recall. Alas ! one little moment ! 
And so brief — so quickly gone ! Even liko 
The shadow, it eludes our grasp, and yet 
Doth hU the universe entire ! 



THE LOVERS. 



AxNA by her casement sitting 

In the hushed and starry light. 
Heard her lover's voice committing 

Songs of love unto the night. 
Listening, soon she caught the measure, 

Softly borne on the still air. 
And her heart o'ertlowed with pleasure, 

For she knew young Carl was there. 

Carl was seated 'neath the lattice, 
And the moon was shining clear, 

And he sang the sweet song that is 
Dear to cverv maiden's ear. 



Constancy, and long enduring 
Love, deep rooted in the soul. 

Sang he, — and his voice w^as luring 
To the maiden past control. 

" No !" she whispered, " he can never 

In his heart prove false to me. 
Hope and Peace would cry forever 

Shame, to such inconstancy." — 
Scarcely was the burden ended, 

^Yhcn a footfall struck his ear ; — 
Maiden, thou hast comprehended, 

But he kissed away a tear. 



A DESCRIPTIVE PICTURE. 



A avEENLY brow, expressive of deep thought, 
Whereon were traced those clear transpicuous 

lines, 
Which to the marble give a mimic life, 
Lay mid her clustering curls, but half concealed. 

And ever and anon, those drooping lids. 
And dewy eyelashes, all fringed with tears, 
Parted, and then in silent splendor shone 
Two dark expressive orbs, such as do haunt 
Our dreams ; -sA-ithin whose fathomless depths, 

the soul 
Of Genius doth enshroud itself. Her cheek 
Was like the transient crimson that doth streak 
The sunset sky ; and over all the west. 
In lines transverse a parting glory flings : 



While through the Avindings to each dimpled 

vale. 
The eloquent blood of youth did ebb a nd flow. 
— A rounded neck, in whose voluptuous curve, 
And clear transparency, the richest hue 
Of alabaster vies with purest marble, 
Seem'd but another feature, added to those 

charms 
AVhich make the heart to throb, we know not 

why. 
And from those lips, the music breathing wind 
Caught up her silvery accents, soft nnd low. 
And bore them upward on its seen ted wings, 
To be embalmed amid the fadeles'i stars. 



14 



QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS- 



Poet ! what is Life ? 
Life is a silken thread 
Of finest tissue ; Time doth spin it from the 

infant's head, 
In many colored woof, to the grim cofRn lid ! 

Poet ! what is Hope ? 

Hope is a sweet day dream 



Poet ! what is Fame ? 
Fame is a meteor light 
Of untold witchery. It doth burst upon the 

aspirant's sight, 
In all the splendor of its perishing might. 

Poet ! what is Death ? 
Death is the closing scene 



Of twinkling shadows ; — never a heart so 1 Of Life's great drama ; the winding up of every 

wretched, it would seem, | act, between 

But what hath felt the influence of its beam. Existence's threshold and Death's dark ravine. 



DAWN. 



From toppling craggs, that tremble o'er the 
verge 
Of the precipitous hills, the grey dawn 
First advances. Far along the mountain's 
Topmost heights, in distance faintly seen, floats 
A thin mist, though indistinct its outlines ! 
Awhile it hangs almost immovable 
Along the ridges. Gradually it lessens — 
Glittering peaks appear — and then the vapor 
Trembles a moment more, and is absorbed. 



Then proudly high the veteran oaks arise, 
Resting their royal arms majestically 
Against the sky. A few faint streaks of light 
Shoot upward from the cast, and intersect ; 
While the deep verge of the horizon lies 
Bathed in the open sea of rosy light 
From whence they emanate ; revealing through 
The foliage of the trees, prop'd by their 
Giant stems, a widening, freshening view, 
Of all the cheering heralds of the morn. 



THE SABBATH BELL. 



Above me murmurs the leaf-haunted elm ; 
The south wind in the dewy atmosphere awakes ; 

The becalmed clouds move on without a helm. 
And the green grasshopper the silence breaks. 

The sunlight glistens in an oblique line, 
Piercing the dewy pearls that on the biishes 
hang, I 

While from the iDointed foliage of the pine, 
Comes a soft murmur as if angels sang. i 



I sit and listen ; — all the air seems filled, 
As from some melodious river of sweet soimd ; 

Strange voices mingle till my soul is thrilled, 
And to its airy modulations bound. 

Then all seems hushed into a quiet calm, 
And earth, and air, and sea, religious silence 
makes ; 

At last, arising, floats the broken charm, — 
The deep toned bell the Sabbath stillness breaks. 



APRIL. 



The •welcome time has come. — 
Come with invigorating showers and sunny days; 

Known as " Sweet April" in our northern 
home, 
Bv the wild robin's lavs ! 



This is the time Avhen fields. 
Freed from the embrace of Winter's icy arms, 

Swell to the throb of a new life, that yields 
To the wide world its charms ! 



15 



Through the dim forest aisles, 
Where the gray partridge makes his cheerless 
home, 

A milder influence makes each haunt to smile. 
When this, our month, has come. — 



There is no time like thee. 
So full of all the newness of young life ; 

So fresh, so joyous, and withal, so free 
From selfishness and strife. 



TIME IS LIKE A SILENT RIVER. 



Time is like a silent river. 

Moving to an unknown sea. 
Onward — onward — moving ever, — 

Moving — moving silently ! 
Man alone disturbs the quiet 

Of its ever tranqiul flow. 
Sowing, — mixing blood and riot 

'Mong the brighter deeds that grow. 



Every human form is chartered. 

Like the stately ships that move. 
Bearing a most precious cargo 

To the higher ports above. 
Then forsake not its high keeping. 

Lest, in future, God forsake ; — 
Seek repentance, cast out evil, 

Let thy better soul awake ! 



MAY. 



O, THERE was a maiden I loved, 

And she loved me they say ; 
But whether she loved me or not, I loved, 

And who will my love gainsay ? — 

the dreamy, voluptuous May, 

1 have thought of her many a day, — 
How the flowers sprang up wherever she 

moved, 
And worshiped the beauteous May. 

O, she was the maid of my choice, 

The soul's pure, spotless bride ; 
And I ever fancy I hear her voice 

O'er the silver waters glide. 



the dreamy, voluptuous May, 

1 have loved her for many a day, 
And whenever I see pure souls rejoice, 

I think of the passionate May. 

I saw her at first by the lake. 

The grej" moss cottage nigh. 
And I noticed the violets under the brake, 

Had stol'n the blue of her eye. 

the droamj', voluptuous May, 

1 have missed her for many a day, — 

But I fancy each morn, as from sleep I awake, 
I feel the soft kisses of May. 



CORNEILIA, 



Scene. — An apartment in a convent. Corneilia and Bertha alone. Bertha observing the stars. 

" Look forth, sweet sister ! view yon knot of stars I Or, does it journey on from star to star. 

That brighten all the infinite fields above ; — Spending a fcAV brief pleasurable years 
See how they throw their long and shining bars In each of the many millions seen aiar ? — " 

Athwart the landscape ! Dost believe, sweet "No!" said Corneilia, "all those shining 
love, spheres 

That -when the worn out clod, to nature, yields That fill immensity with their rich dyes. 
The disembodied spirit, it doth walk those fields r | Are but so many flaming torches in our eyes. 



16 



Lighting the illimitable fields which we must 
tread. 

In spiritual sense, the beacon-lights that guide 
The soul to its inheritance o'erhcad ; 

And yet, they serve another end beside : 
They give to each — their sister planets — light ! 
Is it not glorious, thus, to do all things aright ?'' 

'• 'Tis but too true !" said Bertha, vvdth a sigh ; 

" Yet, how I love these wild imaginings ; 
If there was but a niche, in the broad sky 

That mounts above us, where our weary wings 
Might, for a moment, fold the spirit's breast, 
Till the immortal part grown strong with its 
brief rest — " 

"Nay!" said Corneilia, "the free sjiii-it doth 
. need 
Nor food nor rest, for thou must know that it 
Doth journey on M"ith an unusual speed. 
Since in a moment, brief, if God see fit, 
Nay, in the twinkling of a chance thought, 

loaned 
Unto the senses, the invisible part is throned 

Beside its Maker." "And shall M'e not meet 
Again, sweet friend, when the dark hour is 
past? — " 
" I trust so, dearest ! Nay, thy angel feet 
Will doubtless thread those shining courts at 
last, 
If God be merciful. As for me, I 
Shall go on before thee ; so, for a time, our ways 

may lie 
Divided. But remember 'tis the flesh, child, 
That dies ; the immortal spark survives. — " 
"And 
We shall meet again:" Corneilia smiled ! — 
" Yes, Bertha, we shall meet in that far land, 



That home of perfect rest which is of God ;" 
And Bertha answered, — " oh, that our feet had 
trod 

The shining pathwaj^ in our infancies ; 

Then had we known to taste the bliss of 
heaven !" 
Tears rose in her dark lustrous eyes. 

She paused ; the convent bell tolled eleven ! 
She gazed a moment at the watery moon, 
Then answered calmly, — "Death is a glorious 
boon !" 

Corneilia spake not ; but she gazed afar 
Into the world of shadows. Bertha paused I 

Had her bright spirit noted out some star 

More brilliant than the rest, that it had caused 

Such seeming absentment ? She looked again ! 

Corneilia seemed a spkit void of earthly stain. 

And there she sat, calm, thoughtful and content, 
As one who hears not, heeds not what you 
say; 
"While, one by one, climbing the steep ascent. 
The veteran stars pursue their perilous way. 
At last she spoke ; her voice was like the flow 
Of the unprison'd streams, silvering the vales 
below. 

" God is merciful !" she said, — " and he Avho 
earns 
Through faith, the substance of his promise, 
wins 
With the estate the title deeds thereof. He 
spurns 
All fear of Death. 'T is only him who sins 
That dreads the Conquerer. "rhe good, alone, 
Stand resolutely forth, and all their errors own. 



■pi. 







Hollinger Corp. 
pH 8.5 



